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Braeburns
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Time hurries on Hello, my shiny little fat man!
Did you lose your legs when they picked you?
I love your Kris Kringle complexion;
It's homey and warm, and shines in sunlight.
And you've a silly skinny stovepipe hat.
So tall! It's quite ridiculous;
A foil of your shape
And crooked. I should like to pluck it off.
And slice you into bits;
Bites, rather, eight or so
Your blood is so clear and sweet!
I bet you'll be a good apple.
